


Innovation vs. Knowledge

by AlgaeNymph



Category: Touhou Project
Genre: Dialogue Heavy, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-13
Updated: 2015-07-13
Packaged: 2018-04-09 02:20:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,837
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4330116
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlgaeNymph/pseuds/AlgaeNymph
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kanako, aspiring goddess of technological innovation, sees Eirin as a potential rival.  Eirin doesn't share the sentiment, and explains why, through a summary of pre-Lunarian history, knowledge alone isn't innovation.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Innovation vs. Knowledge

    Kanako was the wind, blowing swiftly through the reeds of the Bamboo Forest of the Lost.

    Kanako would have very much preferred to be blowing _above_ the appropriately-name Bamboo Forest of the Lost, but she couldn’t find Eientei that way.

    She blew through the giant bamboo stalks, feeling how they often grew close enough to impede the movement of more solid beings.  Kanako suffered no such confinement in her current form, simply impatience at having blown through the same forest for hundreds of seconds without findin-

     _I smell Reisen again,_ Kanako thought. _Let’s hope this scent trail doesn’t lead to another trap, I’ve been bored of this place for minutes._

    With her ophidian scent tracking, she followed the trail of the woman who traveled the most from Eientri to the edge of the forest, a trail Kanako could follow.

    This one, thankfully, was not a false trail leading to yet another lovingly-crafted trap reminiscent of Vietnam War horror stories.  Kanako soon found herself in front of what looked like walls of bamboo wood and paper.

    Kanako solidified, now standing before the gates of Eientri.  She was just about to contemplate the building material w-

    “Unknown visitor, identify yourself,” said a young-sounding voice from some hidden speakers.

    “Kanako Yasaka, Goddess of Technological Innovation, wanting to speak with Eirin Yagokoro.  Surely you’ve read the transcript of Akyuu’s Symposium.”

    “Lady Yagokoro is currently busy, but you may make an appointment for one of the following provided days.”

    Kanako hissed as her pupils narrowed to slits.  She didn’t wait for the voice to provide appointment times.  “I want to speak with _Omoikane_ Yagokoro, Goddess of Knowledge, about how our areas of concern could conflict,” she said with some force.  Kanako let the implied warning sink in.

    There was a short pause.  “Lady Yagokoro is ready to see you, Lady Kanako,” the voice said with forced professionalism, “Please come in.”

    Kanako chuckled with grim satisfaction as the wall gates slid open.  She calmly strode toward the interior entrance, ready to fly upwards should she be attacked.  The path smelled strongly of rabbits, and lightly of plastique by the front gates.  She looked around for any rabbits, but didn’t even see any heat.  _Are they hiding, or are all their workshops in the rear?  Perhaps the front is a recreational area instead._

    Kanako reached the inner entrance doors as she mused about the earth rabbits.  One such rabbit was just inside.

    Tewi, an air of authority belying her childlike appearance, took a bite from her carrot before speaking.  “Hey, _silisi_ ,” she said conversationally, “Eirin wanted someone you couldn’t threaten, so I lucked out and here I am.”

    Kanako calmly looked down on Tewi, hands casually folded in front of her.  “I appreciate your honesty,” she said with a predatory smile.

    “Really?” Tewi said.  “Most people get annoyed with me.”

    “I simply haven’t gotten to know you well enough yet,” Kanako said, “I’m sure it won’t take long, especially if you keep me waiting any longer.”

    “Yeah, yeah,” Tewi said as she turned and almost scampered down a corridor on her two short legs, Kanako keeping pace right behind with her longer strides.  Kanako’s eyes flicked to the facade of traditional Japanese decor.  _Elegant, if ironic.  Perhaps Lunarians prefer a low-tech aesthetic._

    “So,” Tewi said, still looking ahead, “what’d you think about all the traps you’ve had to have been lured to?”

    “Ah, now those certainly were annoying,” Kanako said, letting herself frown a bit.  The two turned a corner.  “Excellent job with the scent trails, they were neither too strong or weak compared to the main path.”

    “Aww, you shouldn’t have,” Tewi said, hugging herself in mock cuteness, “now I’m gonna be insufferable for the rest of the day.”

    “It’d serve Eirin right for wanting to make me wait.”

    “Heh, I like your style,” Tewi said, taking another bite of her carrot.  “We could be friends if you weren’t one of The Stinking Thousand.”

     _The enemies of rabbit kind,_ Kanako thought.  “Rabbits don’t appeal to me anymore, cows give more and better meat for my effort.”

    “But can you swallow them?”

    Kanako gave a somewhat-friendly smile.  “I like chewing, and butchery is one of humanity’s most under-respected inventions.”

    “If I wanna see guts, it’ll be at the other end of a Claymore,” Tewi mumbled.  The two turned into a stairwell, walking down and counterclockwise.

    Kanako nodded.  “Understandable.  Tell me, if you’re so wary of associating with your racial enemies, why do you work for Eirin?”

    They exited into another hallway; decorated similarly, but with the scent of earth replacing that of rabbit.  “I work _with_ her, _she_ came to _me_ , the earth rabbits won’t listen to anyone else.”

    “The point of my question still stands.”

    Tewi scowled.  “The Sun sent everything out to kill my ass, while graciously blessing it with a fluffy tail to defend myself with.  The Moon, however,” she said with a vicious smile, “gave me enough gear to _kill everything first._ ”

    “Good to see you’re not superstitious, a pity I didn’t get to you first.”

    Tewi shook her head.  “Nuh-uh, I’ve heard of the kinky things you do to that frog of yours, and you probably get enough grief from her.  Am I right?”

    “All-too perceptive, as is increasingly evid-”

    “Okay, we’re here,” Tewi said.  She stopped and turning around to face Kanako, hand on her hip.

    Kanako saw the door Tewi was standing by, already smelling the refreshing methanol from within.

    “Thank you for your escort, Tewi.”

    “Not much of a problem, I want this done with as much as you do.  Now I gotta get back to the biohazard storage,” Tewi said with an evil grin, rubbing her hands together, “I’m making my _special_ punji sticks.”

    “May we never be enemies,” Kanako said dryly

    “You got that right, _silisi_ , especially since you’ve got a few already.  Watch out for snow monkeys~”  With that sing-song warning, Tewi hurriedly hopped away.

     _I think I’ll worry about poison arrows over the poison pen at the moment_ Kanako thought as she walked into the room.

    The decor immediately changed from traditional to _very_ modern; the room was an all-white biology lab right out of a promotional brochure, about 6 meters square, with a welcoming antiseptic scent subtly permeating the area.  Nobody else was present at the moment, but Kanako saw another doorway at the other end of the room.  _What could Eirin be doing in there?_

    Kanako walked in and examined the details of the room.  Clear-door refrigerators and incubators, countertops with clear cabinets, and unknown boxy machinery lined the walls.   _Does she no longer need autoclaves, centrifuges, and PCR machines?_ Kanako wondered. 

    The countertops had several small, heavy-looking boxes on them, their use not immediately obvious.  In the middle of the room were several desks likely intended for lighter-looking equipment, but mostly clear at the moment save for dozens of pale square mats on them, and chairs pulled underneath them.  Kanako glanced at the cabinets again, quickly noting familiar-looking equipment in storage. 

    She walked over to one of the desks, about 1 by 2 meters, to get a closer look at what was on them.  On the desk were four of the grey-white mats she saw, each about the size of a laptop screen.  Kanako lifted part of one up; it felt thick, rubbery, and warm for plastic.  She put it down, looked for anything that stood out, and flipped the mat over.  Nothing.  She lifted a corner up again and smelled it.

     _Skin._ Cephalopod _skin._

    She put the mat down and pulled out one of the chairs; it was blobby-looking, and set rather low.  Kanako sat in it, finding it cramped at first but quickly very comfortable as it expanded a bit.  She pushed up gently while feeling for a lever to adjust the height with; she found none, but the chair adjusted just the same.  On a hunch, Kanako pushed and pulled up and down on the table, the chair adjusted with her.

    She got up and pulled out some more chairs: half were quite low, half were raised very high up, as if for small children.

     _Or rabbits._

    Kanako turned to one of the table mats and pressed her hand down on it.  The center of the mat darkened into words.  In Japanese, Lapine, and Lunarian, it read:

    Attach battery before turning on datatool.

     

    Kanako’s eyes widened.  _A flexible computer!  This place is a high-tech classroom!_  

    “For somebody in a hurry to see me, you sure didn’t mind having a look around.”

    Kanako looked up at Eirin as she walked toward her, calm and neutral.  She briefly felt self-conscious about her shorter at-the-moment height, but making adjustments in front of others would lose her face.

    Kanako smoothly brought herself into a composed posture.  “Your superb equipment is an inspiration to the Moriya Faith.”

    Eirin stopped a respectful distance from Kanako, but still stood.  “It is also more advanced than anything you can come up with,” she said, “even with the kappa.”

    Kanako let out a weary hiss.  “I’d be insulted if that weren’t true,” she said, “their standardization is as bad as their creativity is good.”

    “Yet they have creativity,” Eirin said, “but in spite of that, and because of aforementioned circumstances, you feel I represent a direct threat to your area of concern.”

    “Straight and precisely to the point,” Kanako said with a rueful smile.  “How, then, shall we settle this?”

    “We needn’t,” Eirin said, “I am not planning on being a goddess of technological innovation.”

    Kanako paused a bit.  “That’s very specific wording,” she said; “surely you’d at least be interested in the prospect?”

    Eirin looked down a bit.  “Even if I were interested, I don’t think I could interfere in your area of concern,” she said.

    “I find that hard to believe,” Kanako said, giving Eirin a look that conveyed as such.  “You’re intelligent enough to collect Nobel Prizes from literature reviews alone.”

    “I would just be working with present knowledge.”

    “So did Newton, he said as much himself,” Kanako said, “but you succeeded in alchemy where he failed, to say nothing of the entire corpus of Lunarian knowledge.”

    Eirin only sighed.

    Kanako looked quizzical, but waited for Eirin to reply.

    “What have the Lunarians accomplished?” Eirin asked.

    “Plenty,” Kanako said: “clinical immortality, clean energy, a functional leisure society, unquestionable technological dominance that would be the envy of the world were they to know of it.”

    “Were the world to know, it would catch up in about a century at most, and most of that time would be due to needing to adjust its industrial base,” Eirin said plainly.

    Eirin didn’t sound glum, but her words and tone had Kanako worried.  “You sound like you think so little of your accomplishments.  Why?”

    “What do you know about Lunarian history?”

    “Very little, unfortunately.  I know they…left Earth…”  Kanako paused.  “It’s _before_ then that’s important, isn’t it?”

    “That, and I, made them what they are, yes.”

    “What about that saddens you?”

    “What do you know of my history?”

     _Do knowledge goddesses think being cryptic is part of some learning process, or do they just like melodrama?_   Kanako thought.  “I know the myths of Omoikane,” she said.  “I know you founded Lunarian civilization…”  Kanako smiled at her realization.  “But what happened _between_ those points in history, just before the Lunarians went lunar, in that unknown time you mentioned just now?” 

    Eirin gave a light smile.  “Good to know you’re following along.  Do you know what an avatar is?”

    “A goddess incarnated as a relative mortal,” Kanako said, “in your case, because living as a human was knowledge you lacked, correct?”

    Eirin nodded.  “I was actually born once.”  She smoothed her hand on her braid.  “My hair was a lot different then.”

    “A short, stylish bob in a soothing watery blue?”

    Eirin stared at Kanako.  “How did you come up with _that_ guess?

    Kanako shrugged.  “A modern fable from just before Sanae’s time.  Did I guess correctly?”

    “Worryingly so,” Eirin said.  “Getting back on topic,” she said, composing herself, “I grew up and lived as a human long ago.”

    “Fifty, twenty-five at the very least,” Kanako said.

    Eirin eyes got an intense look.  “The basis for _this_ conclusion should be good.”

    “According to archeological evidence, humanity didn’t arrive in Japan until fifty to twenty-five thousand years ago.  If it helps,” Kanako said, giving a genuine smile, “I certainly hope to look as good as you do at your age.”

    “Focus on surviving that long first.”

    “How did you live that long?”

    “It would be best if I started at the beginning.”

    “Yours, specifically,” Kanako said.  “Shall we sit down for this?”  She motioned at a chair.

    “I prefer to stand for health reasons,” Eirin said as she swiped a finger across the outer edge of her right forearm.  A slit opened, and Eirin folded out two rods while Kanako watched in fascination.  “Our talk will take a while, and I have work to do,” Eirin said as she pulled out a translucent screen from her arm, similar to the ones on the desks.  Kanako saw that the screen stuck to the rods with no seeming effort or attachment points.

    “So…neodymium?”

    “Thankfully,” Eirin said, already typing on her wrist screen.  “You already know how difficult metals are to get here, and who I have to go through to get them.”

    “She charges fair market value for me at least,” Kanako said.  “You?”

    “My intuition informs me that I received a fair trade,” Eirin said, “but she insisted on being paid with technological samples.  My intuition also informs me she’ll figure a way to get more value than she gave in exchange.  I don’t like variables I can’t precisely measure”

    “Out of curiosity, have you precisely measured your lover’s peace of mind.”

    Eirin stopped typing and stared hard at Kanako.  “Tell me your thought process.”

    “Eientei needs to be fireproof given Kaguya’s rival, and the only way to do that while maintaining a traditional appearance is through some kind of aerogel.  You’d need some metallic elements unless you’ve figured out a way to use pure carbon.”

    “And the other conclusion?”

    “For immortals, I’ve found that personal relationships will become romantic ones in sufficient time,” Kanako said, “with even motherly love becoming more intimate as the younger partner matures.”

    “I hope for Sanae’s sake-”

    “I would never force myself on her.”  Kanako meant that.

    Eirin paused, took that in, and looked back to her screen and resumed typing.  “You’re only incorrect in your claim that I’m an immortal, I’m not under the effects of the Hourai Elixir.”

    “I meant “immortal” in the sense of only dying violently,” Kanako said.  “Also, I thought you _were_ a Hourai immortal.”

    “I was, but it prevented any modifications such as my datatool implant,” Eirin gave it a few taps for emphasis, “so I uninstalled it.”

    “You uninstalled an _elixir?_ ”  Kanako asked.  Eirin nodded.  “Yet you claim you don’t have what it takes to be my rival?!”

    “Before our tangents, I was going to provide a summary of my personal history as a means of explanation,” Eirin said.  Kanako nodded for her to continue, while pulling out a chair and seating herself cross-legged in it. 

    “I was insatiably curious when I was young in this incarnation,” Eirin said, still typing away, “which was pretty much the only way things got discovered back then.  Mistakes meant going hungry at best, and death just as often.” 

    Kanako stretched and leaned back as she listened. 

    “Furthermore,” Eirin said, “time spent trying new things was time not spent helping the tribe survive.  When I had time during gathering or trapping, I fed whatever new plants I found to the wild rabbits that were everywhere we went.  They were one of our primary food sources.”

    “But not _the_ primary one,” Kanako said, “or else they would have died of rabbit starvation.”

    “The more our tribe grew, the more food we needed,” Eirin said, still not looking up, “which was one of the reasons they were willing to try anything at all.  It normally would have been trial and lethal error, but I delegated that to the rabbits.”

    Kanako smirked at that.  “Already answering one of the mysteries of the Lunarians. But with tribe’s growth you mentioned, how did you avoid competing with others for resources?”

    “By avoiding the competitors as well,” Eirin said.  “It’s safe to say we emulated rabbits as much as we ate them.”

    “Rabbits can be trapped, though.”

    Eirin was still typing.  “Yes, my people eventually found ourselves surrounded by other tribes and the ocean.”

    “I didn’t think Upper Paleolithic populations were dense enough for that sort of problem.”

    “You know why agriculture was an important technological advance,” Eirin stated.

    “Dense food sources and more food enabled increased populations,” Kanako said.  “While agrarian people were bound to the land, they were no longer bound by nomadism.  Permanent, and more durable, structures became practical.  Even a simple 2-meter wall could do wonders in defending against neighbors.”

    “I proposed the idea of growing food, reasoning that plants grow out of the ground, but nobody wanted to stay in one place while food ran out,”  Eirin said.  She gave a grim chuckle.  “Good thing they never knew what a pain growing rice was, or they never would have started to begin with.  To answer your comment about density, on the very off chance you haven’t figured out the answer, wild food was greatly spaced out.”

    “Meaning large territories and small populations,” Kanako said.  “However, that meant your people could have passed through the territories of your neighbors with them none the wiser.”

    “Maybe,” Eirin said, “but we were cautious.  What if they took the food already?  What if there were even more people beyond the ones we sought to leave?  Remember that we only had regional perspectives back then, and we reasoned that if there were people next to us then there could well be more people beyond.  Most of all, what if we lost the territory we had if we left?”

    “But there was nobody in the ocean,” Kanako said, “so your people got your food from there.  I’d venture to guess that they were as fecund as rabbits as well, necessitating more oceanic expansion, eventually leading to the discovery of an island chain ideal for splendid isolation.”

    Eirin stopped typing.  “You’re speculating again.”

    Kanako gave a lazy shrug and an innocent-looking smile.  “An island chain would restrict nomadic movement, and since this _is_ the origin story of the Lunarians, I figured the discovery of Japan and the beginnings of isolationism were likely events.”

    Eirin looked from the screen at Kanako.  “Since it’d save me some time, what _else_ do you believe you’ve figured out on your own?”

    Kanako’s smile looked less innocent.  “I take it you’re not used to others figuring things out for themselves?”

    “…No.”

    Kanako was smirking now.  “Likely because _somebody else_ was good at figuring things out for them.”

    There was an uncomfortable silence.

    Eirin want back to her typing.  “My hair became grey, eventually, and my tribe — clan at that point, really — stopped expecting physical activity of me.  That, and how my experiments got good results, meant that I could conduct scientific research to my mind’s content.”

    Kanako let out a good-natured chortle.  “Modern words for a stone-age situation.  What did you call it then?”

    “Learning about nature,” Eirin said.  She gave a wan smile.  “I’m still proud to say that my people were highly advanced even without metallurgy.”

    “That reminds me of how the Igbo had a legal and political system that would feel familiar to modern sensibilities,” Kanako said, “even before their co-option by more technologically advanced civilizations.”

     Eirin slid her finger on her screen, and double-tapped it.  “There wasn’t much for us beyond obedience to our elders, which you can imagine served me quite well,” she said.

    Kanako thought she noticed a bit of bitterness in Eirin’s voice.

    Eirin continued.  “Given that, and our technological limitations, it made sense that I focused on organic chemistry when I wasn’t designing entirely new scientific instruments.”  Kanako was about to open her mouth to speak when Eirin cut her off.  “Measuring tools, I called them then.”

    “Would I be speculating again if I were to assume your people were prosperous?” Kanako said.

    “Not at all,” Eirin said, “though there was always death taking away our loved ones.  The threat of war was mostly averted given our location and, for the time, large population compared to our closest neighbors.  We deigned to trade with them at first, but two populations meeting together meant pestilence, so we soon forbade any entry.”

    “Not much opportunity for battlefield medicine then.”

    Eirin’s face turned grim.  “A few years after that, there were several raids in the same month.  That was the first time we were attacked.” She continued typing.  “I had _plenty_ of opportunity to apply what I learned from treating hunting injuries to that situation.”

    Kanako looked, and actually felt, remorseful.  “I’m…sorry to hear that.”

    “We became totally isolationist after that, except when we attacked fishing boats.  Due to better food and medicine, our population grew very fast compared to everyone else’s.  This also meant we needed more food, which was becoming increasingly difficult to get.  At best, famine would have stabilized out population if we didn’t control it ourselves, which we thankfully did.”

    “Eventually, something prompted the giant leap for Lunariankind to actually become such, though I’m honestly puzzled as to how.”

    “No clever guess this time?”

    Kanako leaned forward and picked up a computer mat, idly feeling it.  “Just technological progress to the point where colonization is possible,” she said, “but I can’t realistically think of any technology, even speculative, that would make open-air habitation of the moon possible without radical biological modification.  Lunarians would be human _oid_ in such a case, but that’s it.”

    “That’s where myth magic and time travel come in.”

    Kanako smiled and looked up at Eirin.  “And here I was worried this would be a dull summary.  No offense, but most history has events and people.”

    Eirin stopped typing, looking intently at her screen.

    “Have I finally said something to wear out my welcome?” Kanako asked.

    “Welcome?  No, but you’re still permitted to be here,” Eirin said, still reading.  “I’ve found something needing my personal attention.  We’ll continue this elsewhere.”

    “Not a problem,” Kanako said as she slid out of her chair onto her feet, “I would enjoy taking in the sights some more.”

    Eirin turned and briskly walked toward the door opposite the classroom entrance, Kanako following her inside.

    Kanako looked around the new, dimly illuminated room she was in.  A corner looked looked like office space: desk, chair, place-mat computer.  The rest of the room looked like a movie set, or a high-tech aquarium: full of rows of glossy white cylinders, each with a transparent sphere in the center and a protruding computer screen. 

     _Exowombs_ Kanako thought. 

    She looked at what was growing inside as she passed by them: frilly, colorful, shapeless _things,_ each with a fleshy umbilical connecting it to the back of its sphere.

    “Are these nudibranchs?” Kanako asked.

    “Not genetically,” Eirin said, looking intently at one of the specimens.  “They are phenotypically similar.”

    Kanako walked over to see what had Eirin’s attention.  The pseudo-nudibranch was a vivid red, with speckled, glowing purple stripes, flashing in some sort of random pattern. “Is it trying to communicate?” she asked.

    “Random letters in the Lunarian equivalent of Morse code,” Eirin said.  “I’ve checked the work logs of its student creator, no unusual procedures.”

    “A mutation then?”

    “Most likely,” Eirin said, pulling a cord out of her right arm and plugging it into the exowomb console. “I’ll continue to study this.”

    “And what of the clever little rabbit who created this?”

    Eirin began to type on the exowomb’s console screen.  “She’ll continue her lesson undistracted.”

    “Such a waste of a learning opportunity,” Kanako drawled.

    Eirin groaned a bit. “Getting back to the demiplane, legend has it that the Lunarian civilization goes back a long time.  How far isn’t specified, but there was a probability that it extended far back enough to reach into my youthful days.”

    “How “young” were you when this occurred?” Kanako asked, watching the pseudo-nudibranch float.

    “Old enough I should have reached my Hayflick limit long before,” Eirin said.  “I mentioned probability because that was what enabled us to reach the moon in the first place.”

    “Like the probability that all my molecules could be on Mars.”

    “Exactly; if there’s a chance something _could_ happen, there was a place where it _did_ happen.”

    “The many-worlds interpretation.”

    “Which I figured out how to practically utilize while everyone else, us included, thought chrysocolla was simply a pretty teal rock,” Eirin said.  “The exact mechanics would take too long to explain, but the oversimplification is that it’s teleportation by wishing, and that it was only possible with the moon of myth.”

    “With war, pestilence, famine, and death being constant threats, I can imagine your people wanted something better than their current situation, however relatively splendid it was,” Kanako said.

    “Imagining was how I found the pure land of the moon, everyone else followed my directions.  Why wouldn’t they?  I was always correct,” Eirin said.  Kanako noticed that bitter tone again.  

    Eirin’s voice normalized again.  “I was the one they trusted to prevent death, if only for a time.  Before, I merely doubled the lifespans of adults and enabled the lifespans of infants.  Here, I extended them indefinitely.”

    “And the Lunarians lived happily ever after, eventually reaching the technological supremacy they have today,” Kanako said.  Her eyes flicked toward Eirin.  “My question still hasn’t been answered, however.  With all the technological innovations you created, _why_ can’t you become the goddess of such?”

    Eirin stopped typing, letting out a weary sigh.  “You’ve been often getting ahead of me in my narrative, yet you still don’t understand?”

    “I’m wise enough to admit my ignorance, yes.”

    “Tell me, why would I, with my history of protectiveness, share with you, with your history of using others, my personal history?”

    “As a lesson I suspect.  Give me a minute to think back on your words,” Kanako said.  Eirin nodded.

     _From what she told me, she was for all practical purposes what I aspire to be, yet she sounds so regretful about it._

    Eirin unplugged her arm cord from the exowomb console, tugged a bit on her end, and held it steady as it reeled in.

     _Based on her narrative, she was the sole mind behind all Lunarian development.  She sounded bothered by that.  Why?_

    Eirin tugged a but on her arm screen and it slid back inside her. 

     _Wait.  Given the rapid rate of technological progress, and the Lunarian’s vast lead…_

    Eirin folded the screen-holding rods back into her, and closed the slit outside her forearm with a hard swipe.

    Kanako turned to face Eirin.  “Why aren’t the Lunarians more advanced than they are now?”

    Eirin rubbed her arm.  “You’re getting so much closer.”

    “There’s two possibilities,” Kanako said, looking thoughtful.  “The first is that they were constrained by the dominant culture; unlikely given how much control you had over that.  Granted, you could have been vastly different, my personality has certainly changed over the millennia.”

    “Technically changed,” Eirin said.

    “Oh, you’ve been keeping an eye on me?,” Kanako said.  “As I was saying, you could have been more prone to restrict or hoard technology, but that seems doubtful based on what you told me.  Now that I think about it, you probably would have been lonel-”

    Kanako realized it!

    “Are you saying I should inspire others to innovate technology _on their own?!_ ”

    Eirin turned to Kanako, smiling for the first time.  “Now you see why I didn’t consider you a threat, or initially worth talking to.  You’re a fast learner, thankfully.  What do you know regarding the history of your area of concern?”

    Kanako folded her arms.  “Innovation happens to address a specific need or want, and technological progress builds on previous discoveries.”

    “You’re still missing something very important,” Eirin said.

    “The inventors?  I know they’re great men and women of history, the latter being woefully forgotten,” Kanako said.

    “Technically correct,” Eirin said, “but still missing my point.  Let’s get closer to home…”

    Eirin’s eyes narrowed.  “From whom did Nobunaga get the idea to utilize firearms in warfare,” she said as Kanako’s pupils shrank into slits..  “More specifically, from whom _didn’t_ he get the idea?” 

    Kanako only hissed in reply.

    “In fact,” Eirin said, clearly enjoying this, “I think it’d be safe to say that _he_ inspired _you_.”

    “Tell me,” Kanako said slowly, “do increased cortisol levels interfere with the learning process for goddesses the way it does for humans?  Given your interest in teaching and my current mood-”

    Eirin’s expression suddenly changed from domineering to innocent interest.  “Say no more.  Hold out your arm, I want a blood sample.”

    Kanako’s growing anger was replaced by confusion. “Seriously?

    “Of course.”

    Kanako suspected this was merely a defensive distraction, but she couldn't help feeling there was also just as much genuine interest.  Kanako was curious as well, so went along with Eirin’s fey whim.

    Kanako held out her arm as Eirin pulled a white, egg-shaped tool out of her dress.  As stubby pins extruded from the device, Eirin placed it on Kanako’s elbow pit.  The thing crawled a bit, and Kanako felt a sharp coolness followed by a small jab.

    Kanako tried to find something interesting about it, but it’s mechanics were as opaque as its shell. “That sudden coolness was sterilization, correct?”

    “Yes,” Eirin said.  “Have you figured out how technological innovation works?”

    “To use a popular Outside term,” Kanako said calmly, hiding her boredom, “bottom-up rather than top-down, according to you.”

    “Correct,” Eirin said, “though you should know my claim is a theory and not just a hypothesis.”

    “It would be just my luck you have supporting evidence.”

    “I used to, but I left that all behind to be with the princess,” Eirin said.

    Kanako gave a slight smile.  “Somebody should write a story about that: The Technocrat’s True Love.”

    “I could say the same for your love life as well,” Eirin said.

    Kanako’s smile grew into a smirk.  “Given current television trends, it likely would be popular.”

    The bloodsucking egg-bot beeped, and Eirin gently plucked it off of Kanako’s arm and pocketed it.

    “There is another aspect of technological innovation you should know about,” Eirin said as she walked past Kanako toward the door to the exowomb room, “one I’ll outright tell you since the Lunarians will never figure it out, and I did only recently.”

    Kanako cocked an eyebrow as she followed Eirin out.  “You think me unable to figure it out for myself?”

    “In a timely manner?  Not without my help,” Eirin said.  “Think about what you’ve said here.”

    Kanako looked down and rested her chin on her finger.  “I’ve only had questions and commentary, so there’s more to it than that,” she said.  “Most notable was how I frequently got ahead of you in your narrative, though there still has to be more since sheer speed can’t be it.”  They were both just back in the classroom now. 

    “I was able to get ahead by reaching logical conclusions based in information I already had…”   Kanako looked back up at Eirin.  “Information I wouldn’t have gotten from merely listening to you.”

    “Unintuitive, yet logical and correct conclusions.  Applied creativity,” Eirin said with a nod.  “An aspect of Qian I believe.”

    “Are you trying to flatter me?” Kanako said.

    “No,” Eirin said, taking out a spray bottle from her pocket and spritzing the chair and data pad Kanako touched.  “I’m only stating an uncomfortable fact.”

    Kanako noted the spraying, but didn’t blame Eirin for wanting to remove a scent that could scare rabbits.  “While I’ll agree my talent is self-evident,” she said, “that still doesn’t answer why you don’t apply yourself as goddess of technological innovation if you know its requirements.”

    Eirin waved out her arm, motioned at her classroom.  “Because I just want to learn, and teach, and enjoy life with the Princess.  What would you do if you weren’t so worried about survival?”

    Kanako shrugged.  “I suspect the same thing I’m doing now, I enjoy power.”

    “We all do,” Eirin said as she wiped the sprayed areas with a cloth, “but I feel it’s important to be able to have time to enjoy it, and not merely gain or defend it.  Expanding on my point, what would you do if you had the power you sought and no fear of losing it?”

    “I suppose I’d be expansionistic and creative,” Kanako said: “build OTEC cities, colonize asteroids, play goddess with biology — you should know all about that last one.”

    Eirin put the cloth and bottle back in her pocket.  “Intimately, but I don’t feel this is the safest environment for full artistic expression.”

    Kanako closed her eyes and shook her head.  “Even in an anarchy like Gensokyo, there’s still conservative politics.  Thankfully, there’s still business as well.  Care to discuss the details of such a relationship while I’m here?”

    “No, I’m busy and I don’t believe I can spare any more time today for prolonged negotiations.”  Eirin said.  Kanako wasn’t quite mad enough to hiss.   “However, since you were a good patient, not screaming in terror at a little phlebotomy…” Eirin said as she reached into her pocket and pulled out-

    “A lollypop?” Kanako stared incredulously at the amber confection.  “I never really got a taste for sweets like Suwako has."

    “It’s meat flavored, for my youkai patients,” Eirin said with a warm smile.

    Kanako took the offered candy, unwrapped it, and put it in her mouth.

     _So good…_

    The chicken and mayonnaise-blend source flavor was her whole world.

     _I’m going to have an orgasm if I keep sucking on this…_

    Kanako took it out of her mouth.  “Were I to provide you with a supply of black-market Kit-Kats, would you be willing to sell these to me in bulk?”

    “Once I synthesize the recipes I’ll sell them at cost for you and even waive the shipping.”

     _If I don’t eat them all myself, I could sell these to Byakuren, she’ll do anything to wean youkai off of meat._

    Eirin crossed her arms and smiled. “I know what you’re thinking, but I already made a similar deal with her.  Nue’s biosamples were simply too good to pass up.”

    “So was one last barb, apparently,” Kanako said dryly.

    “Now that you mention it, I haven’t been the best hostess, have I?”  Eirin asked.  Kanako shook her head.  “I apologize, your reputation does precede you.”

    “My fault for angering a writer,” Kanako said.

    “Tell you what,” Eirin said, “the moment you get me a sample of each of your Outside confections, I’ll make room in my schedule to discuss trade.  I’m guessing you’re interested in trading kappa-tech for Lunarian-te-”

    “Yes,” Kanako said, grinning as she held out a box of samples.

**Author's Note:**

> The biggest challenge in writing this fic was keeping it from becoming talking heads. I was really pushing it with the dialog tags.
> 
> I'm also not sure how well I conveyed Eirin's character, especially when the headcanon backstory I have would be better shown than told. I do like how I took a third option regarding whether she's a Hourai immortal or not. I also like how the ultratech toys of hers turned out.
> 
> That woman could collect Nobels based on literature reviews alone, I really need to think up a story where someone tries to get her to share her knowledge.
> 
> Yes, I also decided to have Tewi know lapine (aka the rabbit language from Watership Down). For those wondering, "silisi" means "snake."


End file.
